


Ouroboros

by Lightspeed



Category: Team Fortress 2
Genre: Anal Sex, Classcest, M/M, Narcissism
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-11-30
Updated: 2013-11-30
Packaged: 2018-01-15 16:14:58
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 756
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1311145
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lightspeed/pseuds/Lightspeed
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A quiet night alone in his partner’s quarters gives Scout the opportunity to appreciate the little things in life.  Like making love to his double from the opposing team.  Like watching said double in ecstasy.  Like seeing his own face looking up at him, and watching himself, reflected in the visage of another, coming by his hand.  You know.  The little things.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ouroboros

 God, he was handsome.

Not classically handsome, by any means. He wasn't notably tall, he certainly wasn't dark, with his hazel-brown hair and his Irish complexion tanned by the desert sun, but by God, was he handsome. He didn't have a chiseled jaw, or straight teeth, or a piercing gaze. He didn't have big, hard muscles that flexed with every roll of his hips, every arch of his back and shift of his shoulders. He didn't have a soft, fuzzy coating of hair down his chest and belly.

He was thin and lithe, his muscle lean, his limbs long but not quite gangly, his hands and feet broad and strong, calloused, rough, but dextrous. His eyes, half-lidded and rolling back, were the blue of battered steel dimly reflecting the midday sky. His lips were thin, and lightly chapped, the bottom tugged in with tiny lines creasing where buck teeth pressed into it to control whining moans that slammed up against his palate and slithered out of the sides of his mouth. His nose, a gentle upward swoop and soft point, puffed out rapid breaths, trying to capture air in tiny bursts and expelling it just as quickly. With each thrust, each accompanying roll of his slim hips, the dog tags around his neck jingled lightly as his body moved, his voice rising over it with needful groans.

He sounded beautiful. His voice was a somewhat nasal tenor that sat against his hard palate and filled the bottoms of his cheeks when he spoke. Here, on his back, clutching at the sheets of his bed, he could only gasp and moan, short, hissing curses poking between his teeth when prodded just right. As the pace quickened and the soft slap of flesh began to accompany the squeaking of the thin, rickety, Mann Co-issue mattress, his voice began to filter through his nose into high whines, mewling pleas for completion.

His cock strained against the humid air, thick with the musk of their rutting, hungry for attention. Scout reached down to wrap a hand around it, the other tightening its grip on his partner's hip. He began to pump that gorgeous member in time with his thrusts.

Looking down at his lover, Scout couldn't resist biting his own lip in response. He was handsome; he sounded beautiful. He smelled and tasted and felt like perfection. He was an exact duplicate of Scout's, with a different company's name printed on his paychecks. Identical skin rubbed together in the slickness of sweat and lube, identical voices rose in volume and urgency, identical eyes locked in the haze of their mutual ardor. Perfect copies of each other, the cock in Scout's hand was the same as the one he was currently driving hard into an ass that exactly resembled his own.

His face was contorted, screwed up in pleasure, brows furrowed, nostrils flaring, he grew closer and closer, his cheeks flushed red and his eyes squeezing closed. That was what he looked like? That sweating, blushing, panting mess was what he looked like when--

The other Scout's head fell back, his body going stiff as all of his muscles tensed at once, jaw dropping open to give voice to the release that sullied his belly and his doppelganger's hand. Looking on, pumping out the last of his orgasm, Scout swallowed hard, taking in every detail of that face, his face, twisted in the ecstasy of his climax. He burned the image into his mind, the narcissistic thrill of his own features, his own body, contorting and shuddering with delight. Blue eyes rolled open, catching sight of his own grin beaming down at him as the other Scout came down from his high. That grin, that quirk of the lips after such beautiful ruin, and he came undone. Scout doubled over, pressing his lips to his partner, kissing his reflection as he came deep inside of him, his groans muffled in the mouth of his duplicate.

Heavy breaths filled the space of his partner's quarters, the creaking of springs piercing the din as two identical bodies settled into place, curled around each other in a knot of long, slender limbs. A soft kiss met Scout's brow, bringing a smile to his lips.

"That's somethin' else," the other Scout breathed, pressing their foreheads together, as if to a mirror.

"Whassat?"

"Watchin' you come."

"Yeah?"  
  
"Yeah. It's watchin' me come."

"It pretty much is." Scout chuckled. "Gotta say, I'm a sexy fucker when I got a dick in my ass."

"Yeah, yeah you are."

**Author's Note:**

> prompt fill for the TF2 Promptfest: (BLU) Scout/Scout (RED) - he gets off on being able to watch himself cum


End file.
